Y’all? I like to talk. I like to vocalize my problems and chat about life and generally share all of my thoughts with anyone who will listen. This is partially because my voice is top notch in all situations, but the main reason is that I need the reassurance that my mind is in the right place. For longer than I’m going to admit on the internet, I’ve been dealing with some fairly personal goings-on, and I made the decision early on to keep it quiet. It went against everything in nature to shut my yapper, but I figured I’d try something new for a change.
It turns out, when you try to fight against your true self, you shut down and stop writing and stop sharing and stop doing much of anything except staring into space and shotgunning every episode of Parks & Recreation in the span of a week. (Side note: I’d actually recommend that last thing, just without all the stuff that led up to it.)
So, here’s the real scoop: my husband and I have been trying to have a kid for a while now. A long while. We’ve gone through all the steps that you’re supposed to go through and are now regulars at our local fertility clinic. It’s been a long, strange, taxing, and interesting journey so far, and I do not have a happy ending for you just yet. However, I have faith and science on my side, so I’m feeling all right. At least, today I am. Don’t ask me about tomorrow.
Mostly, though? You ever feel like you’re playing at being an adult? Like everything happening around you is some elaborate joke and you haven’t gotten to the punchline yet? I constantly find myself sitting in the waiting room at the clinic, and I’m surrounded by women who are all there for the same reasons as me, and I think to myself, “How did I get here?” Which of course leads to me singing “Once In A Lifetime” for literally the rest of the day and doing that David Byrne choppy dance, and we all know there’s no coming back from that.
Oh snap, maybe my brain is the punchline.
Either way, I’ve discovered in my months (and months) (seriously, so many months) of dealing with this that the thing that’s helped me the most is talking about it– not every detail of what I’m physically doing because LET’S BE HONEST you do not want to know that, but the mental and emotional segments of this bonkers timeline. I have a Grade A #1 husband, which helps so damn much, and lovely friends with big hearts and bigger ears, but I always felt like I was hiding. And I do not like to hide. That heart of mine is permanently stitched on every sleeve I own.
So I’m making a wish and taking a chance and breaking away from the original plan. I don’t want to hide out any longer. There’s nothing wrong with me, and I’m not a terrible woman, and I should not feel that way. Plus, I’m so hopped up on hormones that I’m not really sure what’s going on around me anyway.
All I know is this: after writing this post, I feel 400 pounds lighter, and I like it that way.